Empty Grave
by CaitlinNeko
Summary: Every day had become a chore to Alphonse Elric...Alternate ending to Conqueror of Shamballa. Sort of.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of it's characters.

_Note:_ Someone prompted me to write AlHei...and it mutated horribly, into nothing like what either of us had originally thought. The pairing now depends on your analysis of the writing.

**Empty Grave**

These days…every single day had become hard after that incident. Waking up every morning was a chore, and he could hardly stand it. Life was barely worth anything any more – all it was, to him, was something he had to face everyday, for better or for (more likely) worse.

And it was always the same.

He'd feel warmth and peace first thing in the morning, as sleep kept its hold on his mind for the last moments of his rest. It was almost like before, and he'd feel safe and protected, until his eyes flickered open and he saw only pale sheets where he was the certain that gold and browns must have been mere moments before hand. With a soft sigh he'd pull himself up, and go into the kitchen, preparing breakfast for his two roommates. Soon they would emerge and eat – the girl would try to strike up conversation, but he and the other male would barely give it any thought, and it would soon die.

Shortly after breakfast the others would disappear from the home – the man to do work, and the girl…to do whatever it was she did during the days, now, in this world.

He would be left alone until evening. Left to think over things that should have already been laid to rest at the back of his mind month's ago – things that should never have happened.

He'd clean the house up, a little, and consider going over to Winry's to see if she needed any help, out of habit, but he'd shake the thought away, remembering that _he'd_ still be there – not that he wanted to avoid the other, but he felt that it was still a bit awkward…

He sighed, and usually, in the end, decided to visit the graveyard – even if it tore him apart to do so, always.

The climb to the graveyard was long, and tedious, but he tried to let his mind drift as he picked flowers along that way through the countryside, before finally coming to the grave, and gulping, wondering what possessed him to come here once again. He sighed, and placed some flowers on the dirt below the stone, tracing fingers over the name on the slab as he rose – a name that was all too familiar to him. There had been arguing shortly before the grave was erected, but the spot was now just empty dirt marked by the supposed death of a man dear to Alphonse.

He bit his lip, and moved to his mother's grave, down the way, and placed the remaining flowers there for her, whispering loving words to the stone, before making his way back home.

There wasn't much else to do until the evening, when the others came home, but Al was used to it, and so read the afternoon away on the couch, still contemplating getting a job – perhaps with the military. He was sure that the General wouldn't mind giving him a hand with getting in, and it'd be nice working with an old friend, even if the memories were just starting to return.

The clock in the house on the hill chimed five thirty, and the door creaked open mere seconds afterwards, and Al glanced up, brightly, ready to eagerly welcome her home – only to discover that it was not the woman he had expected, and his face fell a little.

The older male slid his coat off of his shoulders, and hung it up, not seeming to notice Al's watchful eyes on his back as he did so, looking at the lack of sandal like shoes from their other roommate, "Noah not back yet, huh?" he asked himself, in a gruff voice that carried an accented undertone, that Al presumed was something that was carried over from the world on the opposite side of the Gate.

"No." Al agreed, causing the other to jump a little.

"Oh, Alphonse – I didn't realize you were there."

Al smiled sadly and said nothing.

"I…guess Noah will be home late, tonight," the older supplied, instead, a vain effort at breaking the uneasy silence, "If at all."

Al nodded his agreement, and returned to his book.

"I'll make us some dinner, then, if you're hungry?"

"No, it's all right…I'll be okay."

The thin blonde nodded, and moved over to the couch, sitting beside Al, apparently content with the silence and stillness, before Al gave in and set his book down, running his left hand through his bangs, and to the back of his short cropped hair, before reaching it over to get a hold of the long blonde hair of the other.

The one next to him jumped slightly, golden eyes flashing with surprise, "You…really like this hair, huh?"

Al hummed quietly, undoing the ponytail his plaything was tied in, before toying with it some more, "It was short last time I saw it," he admitted, "I only ever saw it long in pictures, and the memories I'm beginning to get back…I like it like this." he smiled softly to the older (though not much taller) boy, trying to ease his nerves.

"Ah." came the flat reply, before the drifted into a more comfortable silence.

"Did you…go see his…"Alfons'" grave, again, today?" the voice contained a slight hint of bitter irony, but Al tried not to take note of it.

"Yeah…I did." he admitted, quietly, with a sigh, "For some reason I can't stop going back there…even if it seems wrong – backwards, even." he frowned lightly, deciding to reprimand the other, "You shouldn't keep trying to pretend you know."

Eyes of liquid gold drifted shut, his back relaxing, and the silken strands of gold dripped through Al's fingers, "All of this seems wrong." he said, the bitterness still evident in his voice, though directed at a different subject, now.

Al sighed, shaking his head, and leaning up to plant a soft kiss on the other's cheek, "It's not technically wrong," he said, quietly, moving to tie the long hair back into a ponytail, "So don't stress over it, Bro…" he cut himself off, knowing the pain and guilt that would flash into the other's eyes if he called him that, now.

The other tensed slightly when the word was almost spoken, but tried to remain relaxed, "It…it's always seemed wrong to me. No matter the conditions." he shook his head, and moved one hand to grab Al's wrist before the younger boy could finish the process of tying his hair back, pulling that hands away so that the hair fell loose onto his shoulders once more, "But…I'll try not to worry about it, alright? For you, Alphonse."

Al smiled slightly, as the other pressed in for a kiss, "You…don't owe me, anything, you know-" he began as his mouth was overtaken by the other's, and as he was pressed back into the couch, "But…thank you, Alfons."

"_Brother…don't do it. Please."_

"_Al…" Edward's eyes grew sad, and he shook his head, slowly, "I'm sorry, but…" Alphonse closed his eyes, fighting to not cry, "He…gave his life to let me see you – to finally let me see _you_, the one I had dedicated the last three years of my life to finding. But that was all I really wanted – to know you were okay, that you were alive. I didn't want…this…" Edward's eyes turned downwards, and it was obvious how much the realization had hurt him – how much he really cared, "I didn't want him to…I want both of you to be okay."_

_He turned a weak smile to his younger brother, "I realize now that for me to die happy, I need both of you to be okay – even if I have to die to make sure you are."_

"_Brother…oh God…please…no…"_

"_I…" Ed took a breath, bringing his hands up towards each other, "There's only one way for me to do it…I'll give my own soul for his. I'll let him be here with you. So the two of you can both live on…" his smile was larger, more genuine, now, but the sadness it radiated broke Al's heart almost as much as his brother's words did.  
"I…I'm sorry, Al-Alfons…Goodbye."_


End file.
